


Lonely

by MagicRobot



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, MTMTE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:03:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicRobot/pseuds/MagicRobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Brainstorm's feeling down, he reaches for his briefcase for comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Completely based off of headcanons floating around tumblr, concerning Brainstorm's briefcase.

Some off-cycles, Brainstorm couldn’t help but be overcome by a searing sense of loneliness. It usually started as a sharp stab of self-loathing, before morphing into an overwhelming sense of helpless.

In these moments, he was no longer the proud, arrogant mech that most of the crew was familiar with. Instead, he was a scared sparkling, trying to escape the world by curling up on his recharge slab.

Recharge was always fleeting for him in those moments. While most of his processor was a chaotic mess of emotions, there was a niggling voice in the back of his helm that whispered how pathetic the whole situation was. He was the great Brainstorm, he shouldn’t be acting like this.

Throughout the cycle, he would spiral even deeper into his self-pity, until he was a quivering mess on the berth. He would stew in his own thoughts, hugging himself for some kind of comfort, until the pain became too much and he would reach for his briefcase.

On some nights, just the simple comfort of having it in his arms was enough for him to slip into recharge, but on particularly rough cycles, he would be forced to open it.

The inside of his briefcase was an enigma to many, and the numerous speculations were enough to bring a mirthless smirk to Brainstorm’s face. There was no weapon of mass destruction, nor some ultimate doomsday device. Instead, there was a small vial of glowing, innermost energon, tucked under several layers of soft, organic material. 

He would carefully extract the vial with the utmost care, cuddling it to his his chest plate and remembered. He would remember a mech that was incredibly kind and sweet. A mech who held him so gently and kissed him so passionately that they never failed to leave him speechless. He remembered a mech who loved and cherished him so much that he would ask him to be his conjunx endura. 

Although the mech the energon belonged to was long gone, the vial never ceased to bring a semblance of comfort to him. It reminded him that he wasn’t worthless, that he was loved

He would rest the vial against his spark chamber until his thoughts were soothed and he was able to drift into a peaceful recharge, a bittersweet smile on his faceplates.


End file.
